


impertinent information

by brokenEisenglas



Series: Stony Bingo 2019 Round 1 [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Steve Rogers, Fluff, One Shot, Stephanie Rogers - Freeform, Stony Bingo, Stony Bingo 2019, oh crap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-09 16:20:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19890763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenEisenglas/pseuds/brokenEisenglas
Summary: The Avengers have guests over, and all is seemingly going well. Tony says 'seemingly' because Stevie's on the other end of the table and she's got a look in her eye that means trouble.Trouble for Tony, that is.Stony Bingo 2019, square S5: Oh crap





	impertinent information

**Author's Note:**

> For square S5: Oh Crap
> 
> WARNING: Steve is Stephanie in this story!!!! (I know someone is likely to be disappointed; frankly, I've warned you. Read at your own discretion).
> 
> Anyway! Yes! I'm SO BEHIND on things, but, this idea popped into my head. Got some established relationship, Stephanie Rogers/Tony Stark, family, friends, and fluff going on.
> 
> Saw a few different pieces of art on Tumblr that inspired me to consider Stephanie Rogers. She's a beautiful woman with beast of a body and a soul that out-stubborns God. She's wit and spice and grace and I'm falling in love with her. She may appear in later bits, but, for now, here:
> 
> Have some domestic AU-MCU Tony and others semi-fluff.

They’re all sitting around the table, passing dishes back and forth as they share stories and tell jokes and in general have a marvelous time. The New York Avengers have guests this evening; T’Challa and his sister Shuri are visiting from Wakanda, and even though Tony himself has yet to meet the genius royal, he had asked to have Peter over for the evening, too. Then, Peter asked if Ned and M.J. could come. Then, Clint brought Laura and their children, and now Scott has Hope and Cassie with him and...

It’s great. The night has actually been really great. Chit-chatting and shooting the shit all around!

Unfortunately, it’s also why he thinks something is about to go terribly sideways.

“Hey, Tony?”

Stephanie’s been entertaining the whole night despite her tendency to avoid being the social driver. Thor brought that absinthe-like stuff with him and despite her super-soldier metabolism it has helped her to ease her worries and relax. Body loose and tongue looser, she’s been the life of the party.

There’s a chorus of muffled giggles from Wilson, Hope, and Barnes down on that end of the table. Wilson has his hand over his mouth as he tries not to laugh too loud. Barnes’s face is still as stone, including the slight dimpling of his cheek as he fails in not showing his amusement. Hope is blatantly grinning, large and cruel and knowing.

Suddenly, Stephanie’s seemingly innocent tone doesn’t sound so innocent anymore.

“…yes, sweetheart?” he hesitates. A few more chuckles go round the table as all eyes and ears focus on them. Even the kids have stopped their chatter to observe what’s going on. He feels put on the spot, apprehensive of what is yet to come.

Her pearly white teeth gleam in the Tower dining room lights, and he just _knows_.

_Oh crap…_

“When is out anniversary?”

_OH shit_ …

“Um…”

“Because, I was talking to Hope here,” she lazily points one of her long, thin, and deceptively delicate fingers at the hero mentioned, “and she made some very good points about some things, and I thought maybe I would ask.”

She’s staring at him with those knowing sky blue eyes, boring into his soul like an oracle or a philosopher at the table. She knows, and she’s basking in her knowing, and it isn’t fair because his eyes are starting to burn, water building at his bottom lashes, and he’s got a few ideas of particular dates but he’s not sure what words to say, not sure which is correct, and he just knows—

“This is a trap.” It’s the first full sentence to string in his mind, and the first to leave his mouth. Someone gasps and a few others choke on repressed laughs because, sure, of course it’s funny. Watching your fellow teammate teeter on the edge of being skewered for either his seeming aloofness or his utter inability to remember the exact important information- He’s an engineer! He has seven degrees, three of which are Ph.D.s and not one of them is in day-planning or hospitality. “I’m not answering that, because what you remember and what I remember will be undoubtedly different, and I’m not doing that. Nope.”

There’s a tense moment of silence before Stephanie heaves out a wheeze of laughter, holds out her hand, and Sam and Hope take turns smack cash down into her palm. Barnes lets himself have a small but honest triumphant grin.

Tony isn’t quite sure what has happened as all conversations around the table resume. The volume rises and the tension ebbs away, but for some reason he still feels hooked and held. He’s frozen to his spot and able to move all at the same time. Instead of trying to reassert himself into any one topic, he allows himself to float on the edge of the circle, responding only when spoken to.

He blames the haze he’s dropped himself into for not noticing when she has moved.

Strong, muscular arms graze over his shoulders, across his collar bones, and down his chest. Her long blonde hair tickles his beard as she nuzzles into the side of his skull, humming a tune as she stands there.

“You okay, Stevie?” he whispers, not wanting to interrupt the others.

She nods assent, and looses a puff of warm air over his ear. The gentle caress sends an instinctual shiver down his spine. Ever since they met he’s been keyed to her presence in the near vicinity. She moves; he follows. It’s why he’s so surprised he didn’t see her coming.

Even the most fearsome of men knew when Captain Stephanie “America” Rogers was heading their way.

Her head drops heavily into the crook of his neck, where she breathes deep. It’s a move she pulls when she’s tired but reluctant to leave, citing some unnecessary task here or there that she isn’t responsible for as reason enough not to turn-in for the night. Pretty soon she’ll start muttering sweet-nothings and it’ll be time to go.

“You smell good.”

He knows her so well.

“Let’s go to bed, honey. Let the boys take care of this one.”

As he pushes the chair back, she holds loosely onto his neck, and when he turns around to face her, she slots in close, grabbing on like a limpet. Thick jean-clad thighs lift and wrap around his waist, and as he shares parting niceties, her breaths deepen. One hundred-eighty-five pounds of muscle and stubbornness cling to his only slightly heavier and definitely slightly shorter body as he takes the elevator to their floor.

He’s laying her in bed when she wakes enough to ask, “So, when is it?”

It’s been long enough since the table incident that he’s not so startled by the pressure. Instead, he pauses a moment, and waits for her to not only flop over onto her stomach on the bed but also for her to huff and turn her head to where she can’t open one blue eye and squint at him. He smiles, and she does, too, and the apprehension leaves him entirely.

“The first time I met you was in Stuttgart, May 3rd, 2011. I was in the suit. Less than four hours later, we met face-to-face on the helicarrier. You showed me up,” he giggles. “Our first date was… Angelo’s? Three months later, right? Right before Labor Day. You wore dark jeans, a navy plaid button-down, and your hair was in a tight bun. You were five minutes late and _not_ dressed for the occasion, but your mission ran over. Then, there was the first time we kissed…”


End file.
